<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>I Was Going To Watch You Shine; I Was Going To Watch You Grow by skywokers</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23755075">I Was Going To Watch You Shine; I Was Going To Watch You Grow</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywokers/pseuds/skywokers'>skywokers</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>His Dark Materials (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Closure, Father-Daughter Relationship, just a lot of Dad!Asriel feels, set between TAS and TSC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:47:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,248</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23755075</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywokers/pseuds/skywokers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Set five years after the end of The Amber Spyglass; Lyra discovers not only what Asriel left for her in his will, but also what she really meant to him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lord Asriel &amp; Lyra Belacqua</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Was Going To Watch You Shine; I Was Going To Watch You Grow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Canon-compliant for the main HDM trilogy, and is more-or-less compliant for TBoD too. I've always found the timelines in the books to be a bit iffy, but assuming that Lyra is 13 at the end of TAS, she is 18 here (5 years after TAS and about2 years before TSC)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was another crisp autumn morning in Oxford. The leaves were starting to turn, and the birds had begun flying south for the winter. In her room at Jordan College, packing her satchel for the day ahead, was Lyra Silvertongue (or Lyra Belacqua as she was <em> officially </em> known, but almost everyone referred to her by her chosen name of Silvertongue). She had recently turned 18, and was studying at St Sophia's College, but had returned to stay at Jordan, the only place she had ever called home. Lyra packed away all of the typical things that you’d expect a young student to pack; notebooks and textbooks and pens, but she also packed away her alethiometer. She had long since lost the ability to read it naturally, but she kept it near as a reminder of all she had, and of all she had lost. </p><p> </p><p>There was a knock at her door, which took her by surprise. She opened it to find the porter there, with an envelope for her.</p><p>“This came for you this morning miss” handing the letter over to Lyra.</p><p>“Thank you” she replied. The porter walked off, as Lyra shut her bedroom door. </p><p>“ I wonder who it could be from” whispered Pantalaimon, Lyra's daemon. “Look at the paper, the writing on the front, and the seal on the back. It <em> must </em> be from someone important.”</p><p> </p><p>Lyra bit her lip as she opened the letter. Her hands trembled. Letters that looked like this were rarely good news. The paper was headed with the logo of a fancy law firm with both a London and an Oxford address. Pan had climbed up onto her shoulder and peered down to read the letter with her. As they read it, Lyra sank down onto her bed with an unusual feeling filling up inside her- neither happy nor sad; angry or calming; just overwhelming. The feeling passed as she read through the letter another two times, as she took in the meaning of what she had read.</p><p> </p><p>“Asriels will…” murmured Lyra.</p><p>“We knew it was coming,” replied Pan. “It’s been five years since, well, since…”</p><p>“It has been five years since Lord Asriel disappeared, and he has therefore been legally declared dead” said Lyra, rather robotically, as if she had practiced the line many many times into her mirror. She had of course; ever since the night the Master of Jordan told her about the law in which a person is legally declared dead after five years of disappearing, only a few weeks ago, Lyra had practiced saying it over and over, until she could say it without having a lifetime of emotions flooding out of her. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, yes” replied Pan rather curtly. “And it looks like he’s left you something in his will. I wonder what it could be.” Lyra folded the letter again and placed it neatly on her desk. She didn’t answer Pans' question since they both knew that there was no point in speculating. Besides, they were both in shock at the fact that Asreil had left her <em> anything </em>. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, according to the letter” began Lyra, “We’ve to go to the lawyers Oxford office and they’ll tell us everything. So we’ll go after school today, agreed?” She turned to face Pan, who nodded in agreement. Lyra picked the letter up again and placed it in her bag next to the alethiometer.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright Pan,” said Lyra. “We’d best be off or we’ll be late for our class with Dr Polstead.”</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Lyra found the offices quite easily. They were situated on a leafy street not far from Magdalen College, in a grand old building that was once a rather stately home, but had at some point been split up into three different office spaces. Lyra took a deep breath as she stepped up to the door and knocked. Almost immediately the doorman answered, asking who she was there to see. Lyra told him the name of the law firm, and was directed up to the first floor. The staircase and hall were as grand and ornate as the outside of the building, a trait that carried through to the law office that had summoned her that morning. The ceilings were tall and ornately decorated; the floors were a slick mahogany; and the seats were covered in the finest fabrics. </p><p> </p><p>“Can I help you miss?” Asked the young woman sitting behind the front desk. Lyra looked at the woman for a moment and assessed that he was far too young and pretty to be working there. </p><p>“Yes, hello. My name is Lyra and I received this letter this morning asking me to come here as soon as I could.”</p><p>“Lyra…” said the woman. “You must be Miss Belacqua, also known as Miss Silvertongue, correct.” Lyra nodded.</p><p>“Excellent,” continued the woman, “I’ll let Mr Chapman know you're here. Would you like anything to drink whilst you wait? Tea? Coffee?” </p><p> </p><p>Lyra accepted the offer of tea, and sat in one of the large sofas situated in the waiting room. She felt nervous and uneasy, and found herself patting Pan simply to give her something to do with her hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Careful” Pan joked, “you’ll stroke all my fur off if you go any harder. Anyway here comes your tea.” The woman approached Lyra and Pan with a tray of tea and biscuits, informing them that the lawyer, Mr Chapman, would be with them shortly. Lyra poured her tea, added some milk and sugar, and dunked a biscuit into the tea.</p><p>“This isn’t a dunking sort of establishment. Far too posh” murmured Pan, but Lyra just smiled.</p><p> </p><p>A man entered the room from a door at the other end of the waiting room. He was well dressed and had a strong, dignified air to him. He reminded Lyra of Asriel a little, but that might simply be because all men who would be the same age as Asriel reminded Lyra of him. His daemon, a Great Tit, fluttered by his head. </p><p> </p><p>“Ah, you must be Lyra Belacqua” said the man as he approached Lyra. “Or is it Silvertongue? There seems to be a bit of debate.”</p><p>“Well, legally I’m still Belacqua so it’s probably best to go with that for now” replied Lyra.</p><p>“Well then, it’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Belacqua. I’m Alan Chapman, lawyer to Lord Asriel Belacqua. If you’d please, follow me into my office. And bring your tea if you’re not finished.”</p><p> </p><p>Mr Chapman opened the door which he had entered by, which led to his office. It wasn’t overly large, but felt comfortable. Mr Chapman took his seat behind the desk and indicated to Lyra that she should take the one across from him. Pan lay curled up on Lyras lap; he needed to be close but did not want to be on display to Chapman. Once Chapmans daemon had settled itself on what Lyra assumed to be its own special perch on the desk, Chapman began to speak.</p><p> </p><p>“So, Miss Belacqua, as you will know from the letter sent to you, the contents of Lord Asriels will has been released. As Asriels lawyer, my job is to inform those listed as beneficiaries of their inheritance- whatever that may be. Asriel has only listed two names as beneficiaries; yourself, obviously, and  his long-term servant Thorold, who will receive a monthly pension until he dies. The rest shall go to you.”</p><p>Lyra sat for a moment. It made sense in many ways that she should receive his inheritance since she was his only family. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but she hoped for something <em> more </em>; not in terms of money or land or power, but in terms of what they were to each other.  </p><p>“I didn’t think that there was much left after the trial” murmured Lyra.</p><p>“True, he did lose most of his money and property, but as a member of the aristocracy- and with the help of an ace legal team- he still managed to find a way to keep some kept aside. He owned a modest house in London, and his lab in the far north of course. There are some stocks and shares too- I can give you the details of an associate who can help you with those if needed.” Chapman leaned forward and placed his clasped hands on the desk. “All of these things are now in your name Lyra for you to do as you wish. I cannot tell you what to do, but I do advise that you visit the apartment in London. You may find something of interest.”</p><p> </p><p>Lyra nodded, words failing her. She looked down at Pan who in turn looked up to her; both filled with the overwhelming feeling from that morning. Lyra asked about the logistics of getting access to everything left to her, and Chapman explained cooly and calmly everything that she’d have to do. </p><p> </p><p>“There is one more thing, before you go” said Chapman. “I received this letter from Asriel shortly after he went missing- but its courier had taken some time in getting here and said that it was given to him not long before Asriel disappeared. I have a feeling that it might have been the last thing he wrote. Within it was <em> this </em> and he asked that I gave it to you upon his death.” </p><p> </p><p>Chapman handed Lyra an envelope. On it was simply her name, but she knew the handwriting instantly. Asriel had written it for her. She placed it in her bag; now was not the time or place to read it. </p><p>“Thank you” she said to Chapman, who was clearly disappointed that he wasn’t going to get the chance to discover the contents of the letter. They both stood up, and shook hands, saying their goodbyes. And so Lyra began the journey home to Jordan.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p>A month later Lyra found herself aboard a National Ærobus flight headed to London. She had packed the letter from Asriel and the alethiometer along with the typical essentials for a short trip to the city. The sky was grey and winter was definitely in the air. Lyra was nervous about the trip; she had not returned to London since her escape from Mrs Coulter all those years ago, but the chance to see more of the city excited her. Another chance to visit the National Arctic Institute was also high on her list of things to do, but she knew that the true purpose of her trip could not be ignored or cast aside.</p><p> </p><p>Upon arrival in London, Lyra got on a National Chthonic train to the stop nearest Asriels house (an experience that she thoroughly enjoyed as it gave her a chance to interact with “real Londoners”). The house itself sat in a neat square in the Chelsea district of London. It was no bigger than any house in Oxford, and <em> nothing </em> compared to Jordan, but something about it felt forbording. She dug deep into her pocket and found the key (supplied by Mr Chapman). Lyra was trembling with nerves; Pan was trembling with excitement. Usually it would be the other way round. <em> “Perhaps this is me growing up” </em>Lyra would later think to herself. But for now, she put the key in the lock, and opened the door.</p><p> </p><p>The door opened up into a long thin hallway with stairs to the upper floors mere feet away. To the right was a reception room which featured a fireplace which was surrounded by bookshelves, along with a few paintings on the walls. Wing Chairs covered in a deep crimson coloured fabric filled up most of the room, which were placed neatly around a small table. Found at the back of the hall was a kitchen with oak wood cabinets, that looked like it had been seldom used.</p><p> </p><p>On the first floor was a bathroom and a guest bedroom. On the top floor was the master bedroom, and a locked room. Both Lyra and Pan assumed that the locked room would be Asriels study. The lock didn’t bother them; either they’d find the key among Asriels possessions, or they’d find a way in via other means. </p><p> </p><p>Lyra spent that first day looking through and cleaning the house. Years of neglect were showing, but the building was still surprisingly sound. If Lyra were to stay she would have to paint the walls and put down new floorings. An exciting but daunting prospect. There was a bountiful selection of books to be found in the front room, some of which Lyra thought might be useful for her studies back at Oxford. Pan scurried around the kitchen, looking for the missing key, but to no avail. Next they looked through the guest bedroom but again they found no key- only drawers that were empty, except for the bed linens kept in them. Lyra and Pan agreed to sleep in there for the night. The idea of staying in the same room as Asriel has once felt off for some reason. They ate that night in a small cafe that they had passed earlier that day, and once they had returned to the house, fell into a deep sleep. </p><p> </p><p>Pleasantly surprised by the progress they had made the day before, Lyra took the next day off to explore London. She spent much of the day wandering along the riverbank; stopping in to quaint shops, sprawling markets, and important museums along the way. It reminded her of life with Mrs Coulter. Lyras heart sank; those early days with her were so new and exciting; and despite all that had happened after, they were still some of the best days Lyra had ever had. And as Lyra and Pan lay in bed that night they talked about how things might have been different. What if this was always meant to be her room? What if the day she had had today was in fact a glimpse into the life they could have had, or should have had?</p><p> </p><p>It took another two days before Lyra and Pan found the key to the locked door. It had been in the master bedroom, which was more or less just like the guest room. There was little sense of personality or sentimentality in the room. The only personal objects were the handful of mothball covered clothes, and a book that had been left only half-read. The key was found by Pan on top of the wardrobe, of all places.</p><p> </p><p>Lyra opened the locked room. It was indeed the study, and- unlike the rest of the house which was rather dark- it was filled with light coming in through a large bay window. The window was flanked by more bookshelves, and the walls were covered in maps and drawings and diagrams. The rest of the house was void of personality, but this room was filled with it. On every surface, every scrap of paper, Lyra could find a little piece of her father. The size seemed overwhelming too, which led Lyra to believe that at one point or another this room was in fact the master bedroom. Or perhaps it was two rooms knocked into one- it didn’t really matter. </p><p> </p><p>Over time, Lyra would find many things in that room that would make her gasp; but in that first moment Lyras eyes were drawn to a photogram on the desk. She walked over and picked it up, tears stinging in her eyes. It was of her, aged around eight or nine. She remembered the day that it was taken well, as it had been the first day of spring and Lyra was promised that if she sat nicely for Mrs Lonsdale and the Domestic Bursar that she and Roger could take the rest of the day off to play (Lyra obliged and all promises made were kept). Lyra had never questioned these photograms, why they were taken or where they went. It was just one of the things that happened. But of course Asriel had them; that made perfect sense. Lyras eyes were drawn to another photogram of her on the desk. It was small; but so was she. Lyra must have been a year old or so (whatever age it is that babies start to sit up on their own), and Pan sat next to her in the form of a baby snow leopard. </p><p> </p><p>“Stelmara” murmured Pan. Lyra nodded, sank down onto the chair by the desk. Pan ran out of the room for a moment, only to return with the letter from Asriel. He placed it on her lap and simply said “It’s time”. Lyra agreed, and opened the letter.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> My Dear Lyra </em>
</p><p>
  <em> As I write this, the forces of so-called-heaven are beginning their attack. I know that as I write this, you and the boy are looking for your daemons. I assure you, my forces and I are doing everything in our powers to protect both them and you. And yet I know that if you are reading this then whilst you and Pantalaimon are safe, I have died.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Now do not expect any tears from you. I have not been the father that you deserved. I think it’s safe to say that you have received more paternal love from the scholars at Jordan than from your own father. But I do love you Lyra, I always have. I was willing to die for you when you were just a baby, to protect you from Edward Coulter. And I am willing to die for you now, Lyra, and in my bones I know I will. Your mother is here too, and I think she feels the same.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I sometimes dream of you Lyra. I dream of you as you are- running wild through Oxford, and I dream of the life we should have had together. I should have been the one who taught you of the world; who should have taken you to see it too. I should have been there to watch you shine and grow. All that I have done here and now, I have done for you. You deserve the Republic of Heaven, even if I do not.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Do what you wish with what I have left you. Feel free to read through my diaries, journals, and notes- I have nothing to hide from you anymore. If you wish to sell the house, burn the papers, and purge the earth of my memory, I do not blame you. I would. But do not base your actions on what I would do. Be yourself Lyra. You are so much more than me. Hold on to whatever- if any- aspect of me you wish, and let go of the rest. But know in your heart that I love you, and that I hope you find the happiness and love that you deserve. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> All my love, Asriel, your father. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Lyra sat back and sighed. It felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She no longer felt the bitter sting of tears in her eyes, but an overwhelming sense of joy. A question she had never dared to ask had been answered; the complex array of emotions that Lyra felt for Asriel were felt by him for her- <em> all of them </em>. </p><p> </p><p>As the sun shone through the window Lyra smiled and looked up to the sky, up to every world out there, and made a promise to the memory of her father. </p><p>“We will build it” she said, “We will build the Republic of Heaven”.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>